


Outsiders

by bob2ff



Series: Mutants AU [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Humor, Implied Relationships, Introspection, Literally everyone in KuroBasu is featured, M/M, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-01-21 00:05:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1530686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bob2ff/pseuds/bob2ff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mutants AU, where the Miracles and some special others are all mutants with special abilities. Relationships are affected along the way. </p><p>Features multiple pairings, non-chronological vignettes, and relationship/character studies on how mutant powers can be a form of symbolism.</p><p>Ch. 10 up: Bait and Tackle. Imayoshi loves fishing, especially when it involves baiting Seirin’s supposedly strong rallying captain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Outsiders

**Author's Note:**

> First written for BPS' Challenge 68 (Alternate Universe).

 

 _ **Aomine/Momoi**_  

Momoi could still remember the first time Dai-chan had awoken his powers. He had been playing basketball (obviously — was there anything else he would have been doing?). All of a sudden, he _disappeared_. Or rather, had moved so fast Momoi had not been able to keep track of him with her eyes.

“Dai-chan!” she had shrieked, and started crying. She had only been 8, and so had been terrified. He was next to her before she knew it, due to that _terrifying_ speed.  Flustered in his clumsy attempts to stop her crying, it seemed at first that he had not even realized he had been moving that fast.

Of course, eventually he learnt to control it. He _had_ to, to continue playing with the other kids (he was _terrified_ that they would stop playing basketball with him, if they found out. He could take no friends, but _no basketball_? He could not _stand_ the horror). Momoi had countless hours of amusement and belly-aching laughter watching him unintentionally move too fast to the other end of the court, a stupid, dumbfounded expression on his face as he wondered how he got there.

Having grown up with him, it was only a short time before she awoke hers too. One day she had just been idly watching Dai-chan play basketball, as he did every week with the older boys. Suddenly she found herself _knowing_ , with certainty, and _seeing_ , somehow, in her mind, what the players were going to do next — every step, every dribble, every attempted shot. 

She had been a lot calmer in her reaction. Somehow she had known she would awaken her powers once Dai-chan did, too — they did everything together, after all.

Unlike Dai-chan, she took a much more scientific approach to training her powers, methodologically identifying its nuances.

Through meticulous experimental trials, she discovered that she could predict precisely 20 seconds into the future, right before it happened. After that, it was easy to control, and to even improve. With precognition, Momoi could map patterns of movement and behaviour that were almost always guaranteed to occur.

Winning impromptu tickling matches with Dai-chan got a lot easier, after that. Of course, he had the speed, but she _knew_ when he would attack.

As always, the two of them covered for each other, hiding their powers from the world. It had always been like that, after all — the two of them against the world.

 

 _ **Kise/Kasamatsu**_  

Kise didn’t get it. Why wasn’t Kasamatsu-senpai already falling for him? Everybody else in Kaijou did — all he had to do, as he had done since he had awoken his powers at the tender age of 10, was smile sweetly, and turn on the charm. His _magnetizing_ charm. The girls would fall over themselves trying to flirt with him, and even boys would find him irresistible. 

At first, Kise thought Kasamatsu-senpai’s resistance to his power was due to the fact that senpai was a mutant, as well. Then he realized Kasamatsu-senpai was just _oblivious_. Every deliberate shoulder touch, every bat of eyelashes, was met with indifference. Or irritation. Kasamatsu-senpai had such a strong tunnel vision he could not even realize when someone was flirting with him. _Such a waste_ of some of Kise’s best efforts.

Kise couldn’t even bring himself to feel annoyed with his senpai’s unsuspecting rejection of his advances. It only made Kise like him _more_.

One day, Kise had turned on the charm so much that he had almost ended up making the entire Kaiijou team fall in love with him. _That_ would have been bad. Moriyama-senpai had started looking at him interestedly, the way he looked at most girls.

By the time Kise realized it, it had almost been too late, but then Kasamatsu-senpai had saved the day. By kicking everyone for ‘not paying attention to his announcements of the training schedule.’ Kise had been so relieved he had not ended up with a harem that he did not even feel offended Kasamatsu-senpai had not noticed this attempt.

Kise sometimes took his powers for granted. The ability to _perceive_ people such that he could charm anyone, and mimic their abilities. The latter, Kise had developed religiously, fine-tuning his observation and perception until he could mimic flawlessly. Kise knew he had gotten off lucky, though. He had awoken a power that did _not_ make him an outsider, but instead made him loved. 

So Kise was not too bothered that for this once, he did not have Kasamatsu-senpai’s love all that easily. After all, Kise loved a challenge. 

 

_**Kagami/Kuroko** _

“Kagami-kun.”

Kagami yelled out loud in shock. “Damnit, Kuroko, I was nearly about to take my clothes off!” Sometimes, Kagami thought Kuroko did this on _purpose._ He _hated_ it when Kuroko would randomly materialize from invisibility _just_ to annoy him.

“I’m disappointed, then,” Kuroko said, a curve on his lips.

Kagami felt himself turning red. There was that, too. Kuroko always said these _things_ — they made Kagami feel embarrassed and happy all at once. It was almost as infuriating as his invisibility.

Kagami knew Kuroko always felt like an outsider. He had that shy, slightly reserved demeanour. His power only exacerbated the feeling. The ability to become invisible — sometimes, Kagami wondered if Kuroko had spent a lot of his life looking towards others, waiting for them to notice him. He wondered if Kuroko searched out the brightest personalities _despite_ his invisibility, and not  _because_ of it as most people assumed.

Kagami didn’t care, though. He always noticed Kuroko. He _wanted_ to always be aware of his presence.

Kuroko sat next to where Kagami had collapsed onto the locker room bench. He leaned onto him. Kagami stiffened uncomfortably, then tried hard to relax. It felt _too nice_ having Kuroko close to him like this.

“How are your legs feeling, Kagami-kun?” Kuroko asked. Kagami stretched one of them experimentally. “Getting better. This power needs some getting used to.”

“I wonder if Kagami-kun can do _other_ things besides jumping really high,” Kuroko said, thoughtfully. “For instance, can you climb on walls?”

“Huh,” Kagami just said, mouth hanging open. Kuroko continued. “Maybe Kagami-kun will awaken his innate monkeyness? It wouldn’t be very surprising, since it’s Kagami-kun.”

Kagami bonked Kuroko on the head. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean? Jumping high is troublesome enough. I don't know if I want anything more.”

Kuroko just gave a small, secret smile. “It will be exciting to see what else Kagami-kun is capable of.” He looked up at Kagami. “Maybe we can discover them together.”

Kagami gulped. Damnit, he was turning red again. 

 

 _ **Midorima/Takao**_  

Takao narrowed his eyes, focusing. “There,” he said, pointing. “I see it.”

“Give me more direction,” Midorima snapped. “You know I don’t have your ability.”

Takao sniggered at how ridiculous Shin-chan looked, holding a tall pole and standing on a chair at the foot of a tree.

“Aw, Shin-chan, are you jealous of my telescopic vision? Don’t worry, your power is pretty cool too,” Takao smirked. “I would _love_ to be able to control my strength to pinpoint precision.” 

“Stop being ridiculous and instruct me clearer,” Midorima retorted. “That infuriating cat is finally gone, and I can rescue my lucky item.”

Takao sighed. “What made you think carrying catnip around would result in, anyway? _Of course_ it would have gotten stolen by some cat eventually.” Midorima gave him a glare so potent he hurried to give better instruction.

Of course, when Midorima inevitably tripped and fell from his chair, Takao had been unfortunately at the perfect spot for him to land on to break his fall. Not that he minded — Shin-chan had landed on him in a very _compromising_ position. 

Up close, Shin-chan’s eyes really were quite attractive, Takao thought. Of course, Shin-chan had been kind enough to control his strength such that he did not land on Takao too heavily. And he said he didn’t care, that tsundere.

In true Shin-chan fashion, he had immediately gotten up, flustered, trying to hide his flush by pushing his glasses up. How cute. 

“I will procure another lucky item by the end of the day,” Midorima said, pointedly coughing and avoiding Takao’s sharp gaze. “It’s safe to say that one up there is a lost cause.” 

Takao slung an arm around him. “Don’t worry, Shin-chan! I will protect you from any big bad fate,” he winked. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” He dramatically looked to the distance. “I lend my eyes to the service of defending you from any ills that may befall you.”

Midorima only scoffed. “Stop being so obvious. There might be bystanders that would notice you using your power so blatantly.” Takao smiled fondly. 

Typical Shin-chan, always overly paranoid that their powers would be discovered. Takao didn’t mind, though. They most certainly would be ostracized if they were discovered, but at least it would be the both of them together. Not that Shin-chan didn’t already attract attention with his weird behaviour — he definitely did not need the added oddity of having mutant powers to stand out.

“Come on,” he said, steering Midorima towards the rickshaw. “I’ll even buy you your lucky item this time.” 

He added in an undertone, one that Midorima thankfully did not notice. “Especially since I was the one who gave it to the cat in the first place.”

  


 


	2. Longing

_**Akashi/Kuroko** _

Akashi had only felt pure panic very, very few times in his life (he almost couldn’t remember all of them). The moment when Kuroko Tetsuya’s powers had almost been discovered was one of them.

Akashi prided himself greatly on his ability to read a situation, and know exactly what to do. It was the nature of his power, after all. Telepathy was a wonderful ability. That was not to say that Akashi had unlimited power to do whatever he wanted. Ever measured and analytical, he had tested the limits of his powers, so that he knew what he could and couldn’t do.

What he  _could_  do — he could understand what others were thinking, their motivations, intentions and impulses, right before they physically did anything. He had been been first to sense who the mutants were among his classmates at Teikou, after all. After that, it had been easy to guarantee them as Teikou’s eventual first string regulars.

His  _real_ power was, however, not what he could read from people’s minds, but what he  _did_  with the knowledge he acquired. Nijimura he had nearly mistaken for being a mutant — for a human, the Teikou captain had  _amazing_  reflexes and speed. Akashi had nearly revealed himself until he had sensed Nijimura’s disbelief when watching Aomine’s (already much toned down to unsuspicious levels) speed. He had been slightly disappointed, despite himself. It would have been wonderful to share the secret of their powers with senpai.

What he  _could not_  do — he could not control people’s free will, and sometimes (and Akashi tried to keep these instances to a minimum), he could not read exactly what they might do with 100 percent accuracy. It always slightly annoyed him, how unpredictable people could be, how out of his control their whims and fancies could be.

Of course, after he had discovered Momoi, it greatly improved his accuracy. Her ability to map out patterns of behaviour with complete certainty, combined with his telepathy, resulted in formidable strategy brainstorming sessions.

With his ability, Akashi always ensured he was in perfect control of his surroundings, of how to ensure people’s perception of him was exactly what he wanted them to think. Kuroko Tetsuya was the first one to break Akashi’s careful control.

Akashi had known of Kuroko’s invisibility, of course, the moment he saw him practicing with Aomine. But then he had not expected to take such an interest, such a  _fascination_  in Kuroko’s progress. Akashi suspected it was something to do with his demeanour — Kuroko was hard to read, despite Akashi’s powers.

So, when an unthinking (as usual) Aomine had recklessly dared Kuroko to use his power to sneak into the convenience store to get them all free popsicles, Akashi had not expected the pure panic he had felt. He had watched, a hitherto never felt moment of powerlessness sinking in his heart, as the store owner blinked in disbelief. Kuroko had materialized accidentally right in front of him as another customer bumped into him, spilling a drink on him.

Akashi had not expected of himself to rush in, so out of control, to smooth things over, and ending up buying the entire day’s supply of popsicles (all 100 of them) to distract the store owner from what had happened earlier.

(Of course, Aomine had cheered at the unexpected treat at first, but then had thought twice when he saw Akashi’s  _vicious_  personalized training schedule just for him the next day.)

Much later after that, Kuroko had approached him, and thanked him, and apologized for the inconvenience, as polite as always. Akashi had not been able to help himself, and reached out to grasp Kuroko’s hand. His hand felt warm, and Akashi had  _not_  wanted to know what Kuroko was thinking at that moment — he intentionally blocked any reading of his mind.

“You should be more careful, Kuroko-kun,” Akashi had said. He carefully calibrated his voice such that he did not reveal the desperation he had felt. Kuroko had given a nearly imperceptible squeeze (Akashi would probably not had felt it if he had not been paying so much attention to his touch at that moment), and smiled, a gentle curve of his lips.

“I will, Akashi-kun.”  

 

_**Aomine/Kise** _

Kise was a boy on a mission. Aomine Daiki, whom he had seen playing basketball so magnificently,  _had_ to be a mutant, no doubt about it. And Kise was still not sure what drew him to Aominechii, but now all he could think about was him, of wanting to be around him. So he had been delighted when he could share his secret with him, even if it was shared with all the Miracles.

Needless to say, Kise had been disappointed when he found out his mentor would be the most unimpressive, easily overlooked boy. His powers were even  _meant_  for him to be overlooked! How special was  _that_ , when Kise’s powers were the exact opposite, meant to garner attention? Then he had thought there  _must_ be something special about him, to garner Aominechii’s fondness so.

Every time he tried turning on the charm to Aominechii, Aominechii would obliviously, and excitedly, turn to Kuroko with a “Tetsu! Let’s go! Kise wants to treat us to burgers!” And of course it would inevitably turn out to be an impromptu party, all the Miracles tagging along.

So he thought that perhaps, Aominechii  _liked_  his friends (or  _more_ ) to be thoughtful,  _unflashy_ people. His powers were not built for that kind of charm, but perhaps he could tweak it. He had to be careful, though. Akashichii always knew when they used their powers.

It had backfired on his first try, without using his powers. Midorimachii had noticed his uncharacteristic quietness during lunch, and had commented, “Kise, you’re being less annoying than usual. You must be sick, as to be expected. Oha Asa ranked Geminis near the bottom today.”  

Akashichii had insisted he go to the nurse’s office, and had drawn up an extensive wellness plan to get him healthy by the next tournament.

Then he tried getting intel from Momoichii. “I know! Tetsu-kun is so cool, right? He’s too good for Aomine-kun,” she had gushed when he asked her, as offhandedly as possible, why Aominechii always hung out with Kuroko. Aomine had overheard, and then Kise had to escape the ensuing bickering that occurred between the two of them.

Eventually, Kise just resorted to following Aominechii around, turning on the charm whenever he could get away with it. Kise knew he would grow on him eventually — as gruff as he could be, Aominechii would sometimes be unexpectedly tender to him, passing him a towel after a particularly hard training session, and always giving him a hand to stand after their gruelling one-on-one games.

Those months at Teikou, Kise lived for that attention. He would continue to try for Aominechii’s attention in whatever way he could, as long as he eventually got him to acknowledge him. His pride in his abilities depended upon it.

 

_**Hanamiya/Imayoshi** _

Hanamiya sighed.  “Imayoshi-senpai,” he drawled. “Let’s go already. Lunch time’s nearly over.”

“Not yet,” Imayoshi said, from where he was scrutinizing the cafeteria lady ladling out miso soup. Finally he spoke, measured and contemplative. “She loves her kids. They go to the elementary school nearby here.”

A slow smile spread across Hanamiya’s face. “Seriously? You’re resorting to using your power?”

“I’ve got to do what I have to do to ensure success in my endeavours,” Imayoshi said, that infuriating smile crossing his face. He turned to Hanamiya, and nudged his hand gently, deliberately across his arm, almost lovingly. “Are you coming with me again this time?”

Hanamiya smiled. “Of course. Blackmail’s my favourite pastime, you know that.”

It was always fun when Imayoshi-senpai used his powers. The ability to identify a person’s mental weakness, their mental  _pressure points_  so to speak. It was terrifying but exhilarating at the same time. It was the reason Hanamiya was fascinated with Imayoshi — he hated sometimes how unsure he was whether he wanted to  _be_  the guy, or wanted to be  _with_  the guy.

Hanamiya always felt a little frustrated at how similar, yet different, his power was from Imayoshi. On the one hand, the ability to detect a person’s physical weakness was exciting. Hanamiya loved knowing how to completely  _break_ a person, physically. He knew that in some ways, knowing how to overpower people physically, to even  _cripple_  them, could be as damaging as knowing their mental weakness.

The part of him that wanted to be like Imayoshi-senpai, though, always mourned the deficiency of not knowing the mental breaking points of people. He could do so much  _more_  knowing how to manipulate both the physical and mental dealbreakers for people.

As it were, he had to be satisfied knowing  _just_ where to twist the ankle of a person with an old sprain. Or how to twist the sometimes-aching wrist of a person.

Too bad Imayoshi-senpai always preferred to manipulate people with words, rather than action. Oh, how much fun Hanamiya had missed out just hanging around him.

By his second year of knowing (and watching, and  _longing_ for) Imayoshi-senpai, Hanamiya could predict with reasonable accuracy his modus operandi when he decided to blackmail. As always, he approached his target at her weakest mental state, tired out after a long shift, relaxing in the cafeteria kitchen. He leaned in, and whispered in her ear, that smile all the while on his face.

Hanamiya decided to wait for him outside — he did not need to remain to know it would be a success.

“Grilled eel on rice for free for the next two weeks,” Imayoshi dusted his hands, smirking as he left the cafeteria kitchen.

“Were you nice or mean this time?” Hanamiya asked, disinterestedly. He kept an idle record. The mean instances far outweighed the nice.

“Nice, of course. She’s the one preparing it, after all — I don’t want her to poison me,” Imayoshi said.

“Not that you could have prevented it if you wanted to be mean, anyway,” Hanamiya commented.

Imayoshi just shrugged. “Sometimes I like to challenge myself. Being nice always guarantees less success than blackmail, after all.”

“Here, she threw this in as well,” Imayoshi passed Hanamiya a bar of chocolate. “100 percent chocolate. Just the way you like it.”

Hanamiya felt the annoying rush of feverish delirium, as he did every time Imayoshi-senpai deigned to notice him.

“Thanks, senpai,” he drawled, trying hard to keep his voice indifferent. He deliberately brushed his shoulder against Imayoshi.

“Thank the lady — I volunteered your services to walk her kids back safely from school later this evening,” Imayoshi said, smirking. “I figured you should learn how not to scare kids away.” He eyed Hanamiya significantly from the corner of his perpetually barely-noticeable eyes. “In preparation for the future.”

Hanamiya could not even bring himself to be enraged at him. It was what drew Hanamiya to Imayoshi-senpai, after all. That irresistible way of always doing things people hated the most. 

 


	3. Teikou Cleaning Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teikou era cleaning duty, mutant-powered style. Inspired by that Teikou-arc manga picture of Aomine and Kise with the broom, except that they are all mutants.

Aomine should have seen this coming, the moment he could not find Tetsu  _anywhere_. The sneaky bastard had activated his power and disappeared right before the announcement rang out: it was cleaning duty for the Teikou basketball team once more. The worst day of the year  _by far_ , in Aomine’s opinion. 

The worst part about it, more than the fact that Aomine had to  _clean_ , was the fact that Akashi’s overbearing, bossy,  _motherly_  side came out worst during this day.

“Murasakibara-kun, stretch more — you are not getting all the dust from the corners of the ceilings properly,” he would chide. Murasakibara would whine, but of course follow his instructions anyway, activating his power and stretching to reach those non-visible corners that only overparticular Akashi cared about.

“Kise-kun, stop trying to get others to do your duty for you and wipe those equipment properly,” he would chastise, and Kise would jump from where he had been in the midst of using his power to charm some unsuspecting second string members to wipe the exercise machines for him.

And, since it was Akashi, with his freaky mind reading,  _none_ of them could get out of it, not even Tetsu. He could  _try_ his best, going invisible and sneaking away, for sure, but he would also  _fail_ , for sure.

“Kuroko-kun. I can sense you over there. Come back here, I have something for you to do,” Akashi would say, not even bothering to look. And a sigh would be heard, and Tetsu would materialize from whatever corner he had been about to sneak off to, and go to do whatever Akashi asked him to do.

Aomine sniggered, before Akashi just  _looked_  at him, and he had to continue picking up litter. He  _hated_  his job the most, but he was always in charge of that, by virtue of his power making it the most efficient. With his power, his speed could cover an entire area faster than anyone, anyway.

The only one worse than Akashi was Midorima. Unlike Akashi’s bossiness (which was just  _him,_ someone to whom leadership came naturally), Midorima  _relished_ bossing people around, just because he thought he knew best.

“Aomine. Why don’t you cover area by area systematically, instead of haphazardly getting in everyone’s way by zipping here and there,” Midorima would state haughtily, from where he was using his power, pin-point precise control of strength, to lift dumbbells and rearrange them according to weight.

Aomine just ignored him. Then Midorima would get in  _his_  way, trying to do  _his_  duty  _better_  than Aomine. Aomine  _knew_  he should just leave and let Midorima do his duty for him (if Midorima thought he did it so well, why didn’t he just do it for Aomine, then?), but he could never help his competitive side.

The two of them would end up having an impromptu face-off about who could pick up more pieces of rubbish. Aomine would wonder why Akashi let them be, and then would realize that the conniving bastard  _wanted_  them to do it because the litter got picked up twice as fast.

Sometimes Cleaning Day was tolerable. Aomine loved it when Akashi called for a break, then he and Tetsu and Kise could have an baseball matches with the equipment, brooms and paper balls replacing the bat and baseball. Midorima would be throwing a fit from the side, of course, with his ‘those are  _school equipment_ , you hooligans’ and his ‘I’m not going to be responsible if you break them.’ But eventually the prick would loosen up, joining in when they started playing impromptu basketball matches.

Aomine remembered Akashi smiling indulgently by the side, before reading all of their minds the freaky way he had and say exactly what it was they all wanted. He would call for a  _real_  game, joining in for a three-on-three, and those moments were when Aomine would feel the best feeling in the world, just because it was  _basketball_ , with some of the best players he would ever play with.

It was mutant-powered basketball at best, with Kise and his mimicry matching Aomine’s speed, the two of them weaving across the courts with wild abandon. Tetsu’s rapid disappearing and materializing  _just_ in time to catch the ball Aomine passed, and Midorima’s precise strength-control always leading the ball’s straight and true path to the net. Murasakibara’s impenetrable defense, made all the more awe-inspiring with his stretch ability. And Akashi’s telepathy, knowing exactly where they planned to take the ball, and strategizing to take it there.

His ultimate favourite part about Cleaning Day, however, was how they would all trek to the convenience store after that. Kise, arms around Tetsu and Aomine, getting in their faces, promising both of them to use his power to charm the shopkeeper and get them free extra popsicles. Satsuki, smiling by his side and telling Kise exactly what to do to ensure success, by virtue of her precognition.

Murasakibara, insisting that umaibo was better than popsicles, and pestering Kise to get  _him_  free umaibo. Midorima and Akashi, at the back of the group, talking about something boring (like shogi or basketball strategy, or captain-vice-captainy stuff, Aomine never bothered to find out).

Years later, when Aomine was in Touou, where he had to hide his power and tone down his speed like it was something shameful, from everyone except Satsuki, he would remember those times. Those times when he could use his power to play basketball completely without fear, in front of the five people who knew exactly what he could do and what he was capable of.

He would feel frustrated then, and more bored than he had ever felt in his life, at how  _unfair_ everything was. He would remember Teikou, and think about a time where his speed did not scare him with its sheer power, or even  _bore_  him. He would think about a time where his old teammates and their powers could come together so perfectly in basketball. Before each of the Miracles, rather than controlling their powers, let themselves get controlled by their powers instead. Before they each insisted that they were most powerful.  

And he would wish with all his heart he could go back to that time,  _even_  if he had to do Cleaning Day all over again, multiple times.


	4. Pursuit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kagami attracts Akashi's attention. Himuro has always been looking at Alex, hoping she would finally look back.

**_Kagami/Akashi_ **

By the time Akashi and Kagami could hang out normally together without Kagami twitching reflexively every time Akashi made a sudden movement, Kagami had fully awakened his powers.

He had finetuned his powers to the point where he could do more than just jump high — he had trained his agility and the strength in his legs to a fine degree as well, so he could control his movements even in the air. Akashi, of course, had been as overbearing as he tended to be when he took a special  _interest_ with a particular concern. He started contacting Kagami regularly about different muscle stretches he could do to further develop his ability.

At first, Kagami had not known how to react to the attention. The first time Akashi had called him, he could not identify the number. “Who the hell is this,” he had answered, grumpy from having been woken up from crashing after one of Riko’s monstrous training sessions.

“Taiga. That is not an appropriate way to answer a call,” Akashi’s smooth voice sounded more amused than irritated. Kagami had freaked, accidentally hanging up and calling Kuroko immediately.

“Why is your crazy former captain  _calling_  me? Where did he get my number?” Kagami had yelled into his phone, in a strangled voice.

“I gave it to him,” Kuroko had answered, nonchalantly. “Akashi-kun said you  _intrigued_  him, and he wanted to monitor your power’s progress.” Kagami made a mental note to pummel Kuroko the next time he saw him.

The next time he  _did_  see Kuroko, however, Akashi had been there. All the way from freaking Kyoto. The weirdo was just the same, the air of knowing something you didn’t permeating from him.

“Taiga,” he had said, smiling that annoyingly secretive smile. “Let’s go for lunch.” Kagami had surprisingly enjoyed himself. Of course, it helped that Akashi paid for everything, including the ten courses Kagami had ended up eating in that fancy-ass ‘Continental fusion’ restaurant Akashi had taken him to. (Gourmet food sometimes personally offended Kagami. The portions were  _too small_ , okay?)

But then Akashi had been interesting, too, even if he  _was_  weird (like the rest of Kuroko’s friends). He had known exactly what to order for Kagami, of course, but then had toned down his freaky mind-reading-thing for the rest of the meal. And if Kagami were really hard pressed, he would admit that he found Akashi  _fascinating_. He had been Kuroko’s old captain and leader of the Generation of Miracles, after all.

After a few weeks of Akashi randomly visiting Tokyo, always visiting  _Seirin_  for no apparent reason, Kagami finally asked Kuroko what was going on. “Your old captain has no better things to do than to drop by Tokyo on a whim?”

“Kagami-kun,” Kuroko had said, patient as always. “Your level of obliviousness surprises me every time.” Kagami made to bonk him on the head, but Kuroko continued, “Akashi-kun is obviously courting you.”

Kagami’s mouth fell open. He started choking, turning bright red.

“And it  _should_  be working, since Akashi-kun has the power to know exactly what you’d like. But Akashi-kun is shyer than you think, and you are more oblivious than he anticipates,” Kuroko explained, as though to a kindergartener.

Kagami’s jaw remained hanging, as he was speechless. Finally, his jaw snapped shut. “It’s not just me being oblivious — the weirdo has no idea what he’s doing,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Kuroko raised his eyebrows. “What are you going to do about it, then?”

Kagami’s face only turned redder. He looked away from Kuroko’s perceptive gaze, muttering, “I’m going to ask him to play a one-on-one with me.”

Kuroko smiled. Akashi normally did not play one-on-ones, but somehow Kuroko felt he would make an exception for this one time.

 

**_Alex/Himuro_ **

Himuro would never tell anyone this, but Alex had been his first crush. How could he not? She was beautiful,  _and_  she played basketball so well it was deadly.

The girls, his age or younger, who clamoured over him could never match up to his first love — she was beautiful, strong,  _and_  loved basketball just as much as he did, maybe more.

He had been fourteen, nearly fifteen when he first realized the depth of his feelings. If only she treated him as more than a child, if only she could see him as a  _man_ , rather than one of her cute students.

Her lack of acknowledgement towards him as anything more than a younger brother or son made hurt him almost as much as not being a mutant did. She had been there when he found out Taiga was a mutant like Alex, too. Of course, at the time Taiga’s powers had not fully awakened. But Alex had known, because she could see the potential Taiga had. A potential that was not entirely human.

“Why isn’t it me?” he had railed and yelled at her, fighting the tears of frustration. “ _Why him_?” He had never yelled at her before— he had always been gentle and caring, being too much in love with her to ever raise his voice against her.

The expression on her face had broken his heart. Regret and pity, and sadness, all at once. He had stormed away from her, unable to bear that the expression was caused by him.

Himuro always felt after that perhaps he had been so hurt by Taiga being a mutant not just because it resulted in all that  _genius_  in basketball. He had been hurt also because it was yet another thing Taiga could share with Alex that he was shut out from. They could share and bond over the development of their powers, whilst he stagnated in his normalcy.

Alex took special care not to use her powers too much around him, after that. Himuro knew she did that out of concern, but it only angered him more. It was yet another example of her mollycoddling him, thinking of him as her son or younger brother, and not as a man, as her equal.

He ended up demanding of her during his training sessions to use her super strength against him, wanting,  _needing_  to prove himself against mutant ability. If he could hold his own against Alex, he felt, if he could prove to her that he could handle her powers, then she would know that he deserved her love. And with that, he felt he could finally  _beat_  Taiga, powers or not.

When he left for Japan, he made a promise to himself, to try and finally get over her. He felt that if he could do that, it would be the first step to getting over not being a mutant.

But of course, when he saw her again all those years, when she visited to watch his match with Taiga, it had taken all the willpower he had to stop her kissing him in greeting. It was supposedly in order not to make a scene in conservative Japan, but he had felt the familiar pang of  _longing_  again as he saw her.

And of course, when he had lost to Taiga, and they had taken the first steps to repair their brotherhood, Himuro knew he would always struggle with the jealousy. But he had finally told Alex to acknowledge him beyond being a child (even if the hurt expression on her face as he told her that had hurt  _him_ , too). If he could begin with that, Himuro felt, he would be okay.

 


	5. Binary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mibuchi lived his life not knowing where he belonged. Rakuzan, and Sei-chan, changed everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This is an exploration about binary issues on gender and sexuality, so this might be suitable for more mature audiences.
> 
> Some fics I write for fun (Mutants! Powers! Yay!), and then there are fics like this, in which I wanted to use the symbolism of mutant powers to explore a particular aspect of a character. Please read final notes for why I chose Mibuchi’s power to be this.

Mibuchi Reo lived his entire life caught in between two worlds. It had started when he awakened his mutant powers. After that, he had to live life either as a mutant, or as a normal person. And then, when he could finally control his powers, his life got a lot more complicated. With his power, he could choose live life either as a girl, or as a boy.

Mibuchi was pretty, whichever gender he chose to be. He had been born a boy, so he felt most comfortable being a boy. And he was so pretty whether as a boy or girl that he charmed people unconsciously, wherever he went.

But it was  _hard_ , especially when he had first awakened his powers, and had started shifting genders the moment he hit puberty. His parents had been shocked, and appalled, needless to say.

First, his mother had cried, a lot. His father had cursed, shouted, and thrown things around the room. Mibuchi had been scared, staring at them, shuffling her suddenly smaller feet and hugging her suddenly slenderer waist.

When he got better at controlling his powers, they started to be a little more tolerant. After all, all Mibuchi had to do was be a boy around them, all the time. It was easy to pretend to  _not_  be a mutant, for their sakes, because at times he wondered why he  _had_  awakened such a power.

What was the point of having a power that shifted your gender, and did not enhance any physical capabilities? It was so  _useless_ , except to make Mibuchi feel more conflicted, caught between dual genders, between two worlds.

When he started playing basketball, he discovered what the point of his power was. When he was a boy, he could utilize the maximum physical and mental capabilities of a normal, human boy. It would never be to the level of a mutant, but it was still better than the average human.

So he worked hard to develop his flawless, unstoppable shooting style, as a boy. He developed Earth, Heaven, and Oblivion, all as a boy.

He got respected for his basketball prowess, even if he had been  _too_  pretty for a boy. Sometimes, however, influenced by his female side, his behaviour would bother the some of the other boys. They whispered  _things_ , cruel things that unknowing teenage boys who didn’t know better tended to whisper about.

But Mibuchi had been okay with that, because he had been  _sure_  he belonged in a boy’s body. He felt more like  _himself_  as a boy. And the other boys always swallowed their words when he decimated them, easily, in any sport, anyway.

Being a girl, however, didn’t help him play basketball — in fact, being a girl made him a  _worse_ basketball player, physically at least. But being a girl enabled her to use the maximum physical and mental capabilities of a normal, human girl. And in a middle school, where most of what mattered to teenage boys had something to do with girls, that meant the ability to charm, flirt, and cajole her way to their hearts. Of course, Mibuchi was so pretty she got whatever she wanted without having to charm much, anyway.

Mibuchi discovered that people were a lot more comfortable with her prettiness when she was a girl, not as a boy. The middle school boys would have accepted her a lot more as a girl, that was for sure. But Mibuchi didn’t feel like he  _belonged_ , being a girl. 

And so, even after discovering the benefits of his power to be both genders, Mibuchi still didn’t know which he should be. He still didn’t  _want_  his power at all, and the confusion and conflict that came with it. So he remained how he thought he should be, as a boy, all through middle school.

That was how people dubbed him the  _Yaksha_  of the Uncrowned Kings. The yaksha, a mythical nature-spirit with a dual personality. An  _amazing_  basketball player, having a gentleness and sensitivity rarely found in most teenage boys. A  _terrifying_ basketball player, whenever he came on court and unleashed his ruthless, unstoppable skill.

The girls swooned about ‘gallant, kind Mibuchi-kun’, and the boys respected intimidating Mibuchi with his skillful, decimating shots. So Mibuchi remained a boy throughout it all, albeit one with a rumoured dual personality.

When he got to Rakuzan, he had been delighted, and hopeful, to discover fellow mutants. He had always suspected, after all, that the rest of his fellow Uncrowned Kings  _had_  been mutants. Their skill had been just a little  _too_ unnatural, a little  _too_  awe-inspiring. He hoped that maybe then he could understand what it meant to have powers, what it meant to live with powers that complicated rather than simplified your life.

Then, he had been slightly disappointed to find them with pretty much straightforward abilities that gave them amazing skill on court. Hayama, with his ability to transform into a cheetah, while retaining the reflexes of one in his human form. Nebuya, with his rock-hard muscle mass and immense strength.

But then there was Akashi Seijurou. Meeting Sei-chan changed  _everything_  for Mibuchi.

When he first met him as the new, much-rumoured about first-year captain, Sei-chan had swept a calculating glance at Mibuchi. Then he said, “I expect a win for Rakuzan this year. You all are going to promise me that.”

Cold and indifferent, but with the natural weight and authority of a leader that somehow compelled Mibuchi to follow him. He treated Mibuchi essentially the same as he treated every other player. It had confused Mibuchi, so at first he had thought that perhaps the former captain of the Generation of Miracles was  _not_  a mutant, and did not  _know_  he had three mutants on his team.

But then later that day, Hayama had whispered eagerly to Mibuchi that “Akashi has  _freaky_ mind-reading powers!” Mibuchi had been confused.

If Akashi  _did_  know that they had powers, why did he treat them like everyone else? Why did he treat them with ruthless equality, requiring even Mibuchi, Hayama and Nebuya to do the same, horrendous training as  _normal_  people? They already had natural,  _mutant_  talent to bank on, better than the average human being.

So he decided to go to Sei-chan, as his prettiest, girliest self. As she approached Akashi in the clubroom, Mibuchi had pulled her skirt higher, and arranged her hair  _just_  right.

“Sei-chan,” she had said, sweetly and batting her eyelashes, “I’m not sure you noticed, but I’m a _really_  good basketball player.  _Especially_ as a boy.” She placed her hand within a hair’s width of Akashi’s own, on his desk. The tip of her little finger just touched his.

“So,” she purred, “Even if you give us a break from some training, I can ensure Rakuzan will win.”

Akashi had just  _looked_  at her. His mismatched eyes stared straight at hers, intimidating and all-knowing. “Reo,” he said, quietly, authoritatively. “You like it better as a boy.  _I_  like you better as a boy. As you yourself said, you’re more useful to me, and Rakuzan, as one.”

Then he turned, dismissing her. “So stop this ridiculous behaviour, and get back to training. Now.”

Mibuchi had started, dumbfounded. He knew Akashi was a telepath, but he had not expected him to see through him like this. He had not expected him to say the exact words he had been wanting to hear since middle school. Someone, telling him they liked him better as what he felt he belonged as. Someone, telling him he had a  _place_ , on a team, with what he  _should_ be.

After that, Mibuchi fit seamlessly into Rakuzan’s team.  With Hayama, and his “Reo-nee!” unconsciously supporting, and encouraging, Mibuchi’s gentler, girlier,  _naggier_  tendencies as a boy. Nebuya, with his casual indifference to the oddities Mibuchi was most insecure about, uncouth and rude regardless of how much Mibuchi hated it. But even if Nebuya’s behaviour riled Mibuchi up, it was behaviour he exhibited to everyone else.  

But in the end, it was Sei-chan who mattered the most, to Mibuchi. Sei-chan gave him direction in life. Sei-chan was  _absolute_ , after all, in his leadership, in his natural predilection for winning. Sei-chan was  _everything_  to Mibuchi.

With his leadership, Mibuchi found certainty amidst his confusion and conflicting fear about what he  _should_  be. Sei-chan grounded him in a world he felt he could belong in.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had to decide what kind of power to give Mibuchi. I could have given him essentially what I’ve given everyone else, which are straightforward, pretty much comic book types. But then I thought about his character, and how he is the first character on KuroBasu whose gender role is ambiguous. So I thought it would be more interesting to give him this power, just because it would add an extra layer of complexity to this notion of mutant powers beyond ‘mutant powers give you a power up in basketball!’ It would give the idea of mutant powers more of a symbolic tool for characterization, rather than just a plot device.
> 
> I really didn’t want to put sexual stereotypes on being male or female, so most of my depiction of Mibuchi as a boy or girl is based on immature, younger teen experiences. The reason why I made Mibuchi act the way he did as a teenage girl, with the stereotypical behaviour of one, is because he was conflicted about how to fit in the gender role of one. So in my interpretation, even though Mibuchi experienced confusion regarding his sexuality or gender, he would have forced himself into a conventional gender type, exhibiting the typical gender mold he thought a girl ‘should act’ in society.


	6. Unfamiliarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyuuga learns to accept something he had never tried to understand before. Aomine is an eternally bad influence on Kagami.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains mentions about a sex shop, so if you don’t know what that is please don’t read…

_**Hyuuga/Riko** _

Hyuuga had heard about people like  _that_  before, but had thought those were only rumours. Until he met Kuroko. 

At first, he had been disbelieving. People like that  _couldn’t_  exist, they  _shouldn’t_ exist. They were too  _different_  from Hyuuga — he could not even begin to try understanding them. But then he had seen with his own eyes, Kuroko disappearing and materializing as he ran to pass the ball. Later, it became understood that Kuroko tended to do that when he got too excited into a basketball game and lost control of his powers.

He had been  _terrified_ , to say the least. It had taken all Hyuuga had to keep a blank, impartial face as Kuroko explained to Hyuuga and Riko  _what_  he was, how he could do that.

Kuroko had explained all that relatively calmly, but Hyuuga had noticed his hands slightly trembling. He knew Kuroko had been scared, too. He had been scared of what their reaction would be, if they would reject him for who he was. So he listened quietly, for Kuroko’s sake.

But after that, when Riko and he were finally alone in the clubroom, he let himself go, cursing and wondering how the hell they were going to deal with it.

“What are we going to do about this?” Hyuuga finally said, after he was done ranting. “Are we just going to allow  _one of them_  on our team?”

He turned to Riko, to see her reaction. He had wondered, idly, why Riko had been suspiciously quiet throughout his tirade. He was dumbfounded, speechless as he watched her fall to her knees, hugging them.

“Hyuuga-kun — I am one of  _them_ ,” Riko said, in a voice so quiet and broken it made Hyuuga’s breath catch at his throat. “Do you really feel that way about us?”

Thoughts swirled through Hyuuga’s mind, too fast and confusing for him to parse.  _Riko_  was a mutant? The girl he had walked home from school with for years, talking about basketball and sports with throughout middle school? The girl who made him ‘energy snacks’ that almost killed rather than energized him as she watched him train at her father’s gym? The girl who Hyuuga had not even begin to start trying to understand how he felt about — whether to regard her as his dearest friend, or more. The girl he felt he  _knew_. But then, it seemed he had not really known her, hadn’t he?

“We are scared too, you know,” Riko whispered, quietly. “We are  _terrified_  you won’t accept us.” It was the sound of unshed tears in her voice that did it for Hyuuga. He crouched in front of her, pulling her into his arms.

“Of course I accept you,” Hyuuga had said, voice low. He had no idea what the right thing to say was — he just said whatever came to his head. “It’s  _you_ , Riko. How could I not?”

Riko had laughed, a half-sob. Then she whacked him, hard, on the head. “ _That’s_  for scaring Kuroko-kun with your overreaction when you saw his power for the first time.” Hyuuga let her be violent, just glad she was back to normal. Well, as normal as a mutant could be.

“So what’s your power?” Hyuuga tried to joke, clumsily. “I think that since it’s you, it must be something violent and manly.” She smacked him. “It’s X-ray vision, idiot.”

His eyes widened. “So all this while, your Scan ability was that?” Then he added, because he never knew when to shut his mouth, “Man, if only you were a guy so I could ask you to —” he was cut off when she smacked him, harder this time. Okay, he deserved that one.

“Help me understand, alright?” Hyuuga finally said, gently, smiling crookedly at her.

Riko had smiled back. She did not say anything, but leaned her head on his shoulder, still in his arms. She did not push him away.

 

_**Aomine/Kagami** _

As a natural consequence of Aomine rediscovering his love for basketball, he had started playing one-on-one games regularly with Kagami. Occasionally Kuroko would play with them. But while Aomine relished playing with his former shadow, there was something about playing with Kagami that made basketball feel like  _Aomine’s_ basketball again, a sensation Aomine had not felt for years.

Aomine suspected it was how Kagami could match him move for move. Their one-on-ones were intense, both of them using their powers at full strength, Aomine weaving on the court with such speed Kagami couldn’t keep track. And Kagami’s airborne play, which was how he always got the edge over Aomine.

Of course, eventually their shoes could not take all the wear and tear of mutant-powered basketball play.

“Let’s go to Shibuya then,” Aomine suggested, as Kagami lifted a shoe with its soles worn almost completely, staring at it hopelessly. “There’s a sports store there that always stocks plenty of our sizes.”

Kagami groaned. “Man, no basketball today, and  _shopping_  instead? This sucks.”

Aomine just retorted, “You’re the idiot who doesn’t keep track with the condition of your sports equipment. What kind of athlete  _are_ you?”

Kagami spluttered. “ _I’m_ not the one with at least  _thirty_  pairs of sports shoes! Of course eventually my only pair would wear out.”

Aomine just ignored him and walked ahead. “It’s  _46_  pairs,” he muttered in correction, loftily.

Despite himself, Kagami had gotten excited peering at the different specifications and features the shoes had. They spent longer in the store than Kagami anticipated. Aomine had left with another three pairs to add to his collection, and ever the bad influence, had persuaded Kagami to buy three extra unneeded pairs, too.

Even with that, however, Kagami definitely underestimated the level of bad influence Aomine could be on him. Somehow, in his distraction, as they were sniping at one another, they had ended up  _here_.

 _Here,_  was a sex store. Aomine headed straight for the gravure magazine section, while Kagami hung back, feeling the flush rise on his face.

“O-oi, Aomine!” he yelled at him, unable to stop his stammer of embarrassment. “W-where are you going?” Aomine turned to him, and a slow smirk spread across his face.

“Oh, looks like we have a sex store  _virgin_ here,” Aomine smirked. “Or are you  _unfamiliar_  about  _more_  than just this?”

Kagami choked on his yell. “Idiot! It’s late, anyway, we should go straight home!”

Aomine approached him, and slung an arm around him. “Stop being such a Midorima.” (Somewhere, Midorima felt a surge of animosity from the normal, constant level of irritation he felt about Aomine — somehow, he  _knew_ that idiotwas involved. He later decided to consult Oha Asa for items particularly unlucky for Virgos, and deliver it  _specially_  for him the next day).

“Let’s go find something you  _would_  like.” Ignoring Kagami’s red-faced protests, he steered him further into the store.

Kagami found himself looking purposefully  _away_  from the more exotic looking items (some of them he did  _not_  want to know how they would even be  _used_ ). Gravure magazines he could handle, though, he thought in relief as he faced the rack.

“So is your type anime, idols, pretty boys, cutesy girls…” Aomine idly listed out the types, pointing them out one by one on the rack. The idiot  _knew_  his perverted stuff. Kagami pretended to scrutinize them, while consciously trying not to look  _too_  much. Damnit, this stuff was  _embarrassing_. Kagami felt that he would be getting a permanent blush by the end of the day.

Suddenly, something was shoved onto his head, like a hat. Kagami curiously took it off, and then jumped,  _high_ , accidentally losing control of his power in his shock. He dropped the item like it had scalded him.  

“ _Idiot!_ ” he yelled again, as Aomine doubled over, laughing uproariously. That  _thing_  was a  _thong_. ‘Special flavour: Cheeseburgers!’ the label promised exuberantly.

“But Kagami, I thought your favourite food  _was_  cheeseburgers,” Aomine said, innocently. Kagami grabbed him by the collar and stormed out of the store, dragging him all the way.

As they left Shibuya, Aomine slung an arm around him. “So, Kagami, what  _do_  you like?” he asked. His voice was low, and rich with meaning.

Kagami just gulped. Man, this idiot was too much of a bad influence for Kagami’s own good.


	7. Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had never been heard before, a mutant actually losing his power. But then, Hanamiya was no ordinary attacker, and Kiyoshi had gotten no ordinary injury.

Kiyoshi was one of those mutants who tried as hard as he could to be normal as normal could be. Of course, he had the ability to harden his bone mass, and that did not make him very normal. In fact, it made him near invincible.

His grandparents could have bemoaned the fact they had a mutant grandchild to raise, but in fact they were secretly grateful. 7-year-old Kiyoshi had an unfortunate tendedncy of walking into doors and tripping over himself, letting something as random as a pretty butterfly fluttering nearby catch his attention. As it were, Kiyoshi’s grandparents thought, the mutant power to be invincible was more of a blessing than a curse when you had a child as spacey as Kiyoshi Teppei to raise.

They could have been a lot more worried when Kiyoshi started attending school. He was so ditzy, he could have revealed he had mutant powers, big smile firmly in place, in any random conversation about red bean buns, for all they knew. As it were, they had enough faith that any friends he made would find him so kooky they would disregard whatever he said.

Needless to say, when Kiyoshi found friends like Hyuuga and Izuki, nice boys who were both oblivious about the existence of mutants, it was a relief, for him more than anyone else. He could try being normal, aside from an obvious talent in basketball boosted by mutant ability.

And then there was Riko. She was the only one who knew his secret throughout their first year in Seirin. She understood how it felt to hide a fundamental part of who you were, after all, having to hide her own X-ray vision from even Hyuuga, her oldest friend.

Kiyoshi never told her how much he loved those times he spent with her, the two of them knowing something about each other nobody else did. Riko whacking him upside the head whenever he nearly let slip his power in conversation, Kiyoshi purposely over-exaggerating his amazement whenever she used her powers under the cover of her Scan ability. Those times formed a huge soft spot in Kiyoshi’s heart for Riko that he still wasn’t sure was entirely platonic.

That first year in Seirin, despite having to hide his powers from everyone except Riko, was one of the happiest, most uplifting times in Kiyoshi’s life. Working hard alongside everyone, working towards their crazy dream to be number one in Japan.

And then there was Kirisaki Daichi, and the game that changed everything.

The moment Kiyoshi saw Hanamiya Makoto, he  _knew_  he was a mutant, the way a predator recognizes another predator. Even Riko knew it, and had told every one of them to be careful, becoming gentler and more concerned than usual. Her uncharacteristic behaviour had worried Hyuuga somewhat, and he had said extra loudly, and confidently, to reassure her, that Seirin could do it. Kiyoshi had patted his big hands on Hyuuga’s back and Riko’s shoulder, and told them all that they should all have fun in this game.

They could not have prepared for what came next. Hanamiya’s power, the ability to identify with precision the physical weakness of a person, was  _deadly_. Kiyoshi later found out that Hanamiya generally left a trail of injured aces in his wake, all with carefully pinpointed, calibrated injuries that suspiciously took place on the weakest points of their anatomy — whether an old sprain, or a recovering twist somewhere.

At the beginning of the game, Hanamiya faced off with Kiyoshi, and leaned in to whisper to him, soft and sweet and deadly, “I know who you are.”

And Kiyoshi, because he was physically incapable of not returning a smile, just smiled back and said, “And I know who  _you_  are. It should be a fun game~!”

Hanamiya’s smile turned lethal. “Yes, it should be.”

And so when Hanamiya gave the signal, one of the players twisted Kiyoshi’s leg in such an angle that even his activated power and hardened bone mass could not handle it. Kiyoshi had screamed in pain, scared and lost and feeling utterly powerless for the first time. Really feeling pain for the first time in his mostly invincible life.

Seirin goes to pieces, Kirisaki Daichi wins, and later, Kiyoshi feels empty. He had tried activating his power a few times as he lay in the bed, but somehow it wouldn’t come, like a favourite pet that had suddenly turned on him.

Kiyoshi felt lost, like he lost a fundamental part of who he was. And in a way, he had. He was not a mutant anymore. He was normal. And now that he was, Kiyoshi wondered if he had ever wanted to be normal, in the end.

Riko visited him in the hospital. She looked hollow, and empty, and utterly without hope. But she tried to be business-like for his sake, immediately activating her power and scanning his body. What she finds has her voice shaking with barely-held back tears, scared and helpless in a way Kiyoshi had never thought Riko could be.

“Hanamiya identified that your power works on bone mass, but not in your joints,” she explained, practicality and pragmatism fraying at the seams as her voice wavers. “That weakness was where he targeted you — your knee.”

What remained unsaid was that Hanamiya’s attack had been so precise and accurate, and utterly, perfectly deadly, that it had broken Kiyoshi’s power for good. What remained unsaid was that even though the power to take away mutant ability did not,  _could_  not exist, Hanamiya had been the worst opponent possible for Kiyoshi. He would have been the only mutant with the ability to identify the sole weakness in Kiyoshi’s otherwise physical impenetrability, and  _break_ it, rendering it useless, like garbage.

Kiyoshi would have been utterly justified in raging at Riko, in his pain. He would have been utterly warranted to lose control, and break down. But he looked at Riko, at how broken and sad  _she_  was for his sake, and decided not to.

He remembered Hyuuga, the strongest person he knew, mentally, despite not being a mutant. He remembered the rest of Seirin, all normal, yet the most powerful people Kiyoshi knew, at least in spirit.

Kiyoshi smiled at her, gently. “I’m going to be alright, Riko,” he said. “I still have my heart and soul.”

After all, he felt, devoting his heart and soul to something was what it meant to enjoy it, mutant powers or not. And he could still have fun, playing basketball, especially if it was with Seirin. So he prepared himself, mentally and in his heart and soul, to live as a normal person, for the rest of his life.

He knew it would take a long time to get over the pain, to get over losing what had been fundamentally  _him_. But he thought he could begin by learning from Hyuuga, and Seirin. He thought he could begin by trying to live normally, while still having fun.


	8. Contrast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takao and Akashi play a game. Midorima and Hanamiya have a philosophical ‘discussion’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two are the crackiest pairings requests I’ve gotten so far. ;) Pretty fun to write, still.

_**Takao/Akashi** _

Midorima was right to have been worried when Akashi had suggested that they bring their friends during the next Miracles hangout. Oha Asa did say Cancers were ranked near the bottom today. It wasn’t that he was _embarrassed_ to be associated with Takao, per se— okay, who was he kidding, he _did not want_ Akashi to know that he hung out with the likes of _Takao_. Sure, Takao was maybe-sometimes-probably-occasionally a wonderful friend, but it was just — it was  _Takao_. 

“Shin-chan!” Takao cheered, arm stubbornly slung around Midorima. “I’m so excited to finally meet your friends all together! I’ve been longing for this since the Winter Cup!”

As Midorima struggled to get out from under Takao’s arm, all he could think about was Akashi’s ominous words. “Choose well, Shintarou. As you very well know, I _will_ ensure this hangout is a success.”

Now that Akashi was deigning to hang out with them again, he was as always, insufferably obsessed with perfection. Even in social situations. Midorima thought his social awkwardness was more annoying as hell than endearing.

“Kazunari.” Akashi smiled. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

Takao just knelt in front of him with an “Akashi Seijurou”. Midorima hissed at him, “What are you doing, you idiot?!”

“As this is our first social interaction outside of competitions, I would like to present a peace offering,” Takao reverently displayed a pair of ordinary scissors (Midorima recognized them as _his_ pair — he really had to find a way to prevent Takao from going through his stationery and stealing whatever he needed).

A beat of silence passed, where Kagami tried his best to hide behind an instantly invisible Kuroko. Kagami was an intolerable idiot, but Midorima sympathized — he was learning the hard way that you just _don’t tell_ stories to Takao that would inevitably come back to bite you in the ass. 

Then Midorima pulled Takao up, composed. “Forgive Takao, Akashi. He thinks he’s funnier than he is.”

Takao huffed dramatically, offended. “Kuroko-kun finds me hilarious, don’t you?” Kuroko’s disembodied voice came out of nowhere, “Please leave me out of this.” Kagami readily pounced on wherever the voice was.

Things got thankfully less awkward when everyone else arrived, and the group headed to a fast food place (decided overwhelmingly by Aomine and Kagami’s combined loudness, and Kise’s enthusiastic agreement) for lunch. Midorima had just begun to become complacent and resignedly tolerate his insufferable former teammates for the rest of the day when Takao, unfortunately, set forth other plans.

“I’d like to play a game with you, Akashi-kun,” Takao said, eyes dancing mischeviously. Immediately, Midorima was on his guard. He was up to something, he _knew_ it.

Akashi smiled. “A game sounds interesting. I’d like to inform you that I am used to winning, though.” Takao just smiled back, sharp edge to his grin. “Oh, but I _always_ win at _this_ game, too.” 

“I spy with my little eye something…bistre!” Takao smirked. Midorima blinked. Takao wanted to play _that_ game with Akashi Seijurou, shogi enthusiast and basketball strategy mastermind?

“What the hell kind of colour is _bistre_?” Aomine said, food flying from his stuffed mouth, where he had been competing with Kagami about who could eat faster, more rudely, and more uncouthly (or so Midorima assumed, judging by their current conduct).

Akashi just composedly said. “Shintarou’s Shuutoku blazer button, tucked in his bag.” Midorima gaped at his bag — the button was _just_ sticking out, and it looked plain _brown_ to Midorima. Then again, _of course_ Akashi would know what bistre was.

Takao looked impressed. “Not bad — you knew what my power is, but still, that’s pretty good.”

Akashi just looked indifferent. “I told you, I always win. I spy something feldgrau.” This time, Kagami rolled his eyes. “Stop showing off, bastard.” 

Takao smirked. “Don’t worry Kagami-kun, I expected nothing less from Akashi-kun. It’s that rolled up poster in the corner there — the colour of the border is field grey.” 

They went on, seemingly at a stalemate, until Midorima had enough. “Takao, Akashi has _telepathy_. He’s going to be able to know everything you say. And Akashi, Takao has telescopic vision. Whatever you come up with, he’s going to be able to see it.”

Akashi crossed his arms. “Don’t belittle my efforts, Shintarou. I was able to know what Kazunari was spying _without_ my ability.” Takao piped up, “And who says I was _using_ my powers?”

Then Takao smiled. “Aw, Shin-chan’s feeling left out! It’s okay, you can join in.” Midorima sputtered. But they spent the rest of lunch playing that ridiculous game, every one of them joining in.

It ended suddenly, without a winner, when Aomine bodily tackled Kagami over Kagami calling his shirt ‘a girly pink’ instead of ‘salmon-coloured’. Takao had made it worse, correcting them by adding that the actual colour was ‘fuzzy wuzzy.’ They were thrown out of the restaurant, and Akashi had to smooth everything over. Of course, Aomine and Kagami instantly knew they were in for a hard time with him later, for somewhat ruining the outing. 

As they left, Akashi tapped Midorima on the shoulder. “Kazunari is a fascinating individual, Shintarou. I insist that you give me his phone number. I would like to give him _private_ lessons — he has the potential to be an _excellent_ point guard.” 

Midorima stiffened. Takao was on his own this time. Sure, Takao was his shadow, but when it came to Akashi Seijurou, Midorima was smarter than getting in between him and what he wanted. And Takao Kazunari had definitely caught his interest.

_Notes: I somehow always seem to end up writing Akashi as a super-aggressive suitor — he seems like the type, given his alpha male tendencies and overbearing motherliness. ;P  Also, all colours are Wikipedia-researched and real!_

 

**_Hanamiya/Midorima_ **

Hanamiya had mapped it all out in his head. There was Kuroko Tetsuya and Kagami Taiga, of course, at the top of his list. Then there were the so-called Miracles, who had usurped his position as Uncrowned Kings. All of them, garbage-to-be. All mutants, who had to be taught their place. They _had_ to — there was no way their powers could beat _his_. There was no way they were more powerful. There was no way some mutants were better than others.

So when he roamed the corridors during the Interhigh, fresh after Kirisaki Daichi’s loss to Seirin, and bumped into Midorima Shintarou, he had relished the opportunity to meet him one-on-one. To introduce himself, and make an _impression_.

Midorima had been reading in the break between matches. Here was the only spot Takao could not find him and impose his _presence_ on him — just yet. With those telescopic eyes of his, it was only a matter of time. 

“Midorima Shintarou, Generation of Miracles?” Hanamiya smiled. Midorima stiffened immediately, recognizing him from one of Seirin’s encounters he was distinctly _not_ keeping track of — he just happened to be around, okay?

Hanamiya wondered, excitement mounting deliciously, how Midorima’s face would look like when Hanamiya told him he _knew_ his physical weakness (his fingers), and that he knew how to _hurt_ him. Then they would know. Miracles or not, stronger powers or not, they would _acknowledge_ Hanamiya as an equal. But his eyes fell on the book Midorima was reading.

“Machiavelli’s _The Prince_ ,” Hanamiya read aloud. Then he smirked. “One of my favourites.”

Midorima loftily leveled a gaze at him. “Somehow I’m not surprised, given your tactics.”

Hanamiya widened his eyes, innocent and sweet. “I don’t know what you mean, Midorima-kun.”

Midorima approached him, and looked down imposingly, threateningly, from his taller height. “Man proposes, Kami-sama disposes. You may not believe in this philosophy, but it’s the only right way to win. _Without_ any despicable tactics.” 

Hanamiya grabbed Midorima’s hand. He flinched as though burned, but Hanamiya held on tight. Running his fingers almost lovingly through Midorima’s taped ones, he smiled, slowly.

“Tell me, do you like _bad boys_ , Midorima-kun?” he asked, voice low. “You should hope that Shuutoku does not encounter Kirisaki Daichi in future matches. I might just go after you.” 

Midorima spluttered, and an angry flush spread across his face. With a short burst of his power, he used precisely enough strength to wrench his hand from Hanamiya’s grasp. 

“You are welcome to,” he said, voice shaking slightly with barely controlled anger. “We will beat you, with our own efforts. Oha Asa, as well as myself, will make sure of it.”

With that, he stalked off. Hanamiya picked up the book he left on the bench in his anger, flipping through it idly.

 _He who neglects what is done for what ought to be done, sooner effects his ruin than his preservation_. Hanamiya’s favourite quote from the book, _especially_ as pertaining in basketball.

He looked forward to the day he could play against Midorima Shintarou. To pit their philosophies against one another, and see what could arise. To pit their _powers_ against each other, and see who would _win_.

Hanamiya decided to be nice this time. He wouldn’t _break_ Midorima completely, not just yet, He felt that he going to have _fun_ with him, he was sure of it.

 


	9. Covetous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Miyaji meets Hayama again after the Winter Cup, he gets a rude revelation. A _really_ rude, shocking one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a request from dear Yoko_Fujioka! I do hope you like it. =)

_**Hayama/Miyaji** _

Being a third year, graduating high school basketball, these were all supposed to free him from this kind of shit. Unfortunately, Miyaji had been on the same team with _Midorima._ Being on the same team with a crazy Miracle, who hung around with _other_ crazy people, definitely brought more trouble than Miyaji could stand for.

"I'm so happy we're playing this practice match together! I've wanted to play with you again since Winter Cup!" Hayama clung tighter to Miyaji's arm.

"Are you _mocking_ me? I distinctly remember you _not_ taking me seriously during the Winter Cup," Miyaji tried to shake him off disgruntledly, but Hayama only clung tighter. "Get away from me,” he snapped.

"But don't you remember how we faced off with each other's dribbles? It was awesome! I’ve never had someone to bond with about dribbling before," Hayama babbled on, oblivious to Miyaji's irritation. 

Miyaji looked to Kimura, standing by amusedly. "Hey, pass me a pineapple. I'm getting _a lot_ of ideas on what to use it for," Miyaji muttered venomously, as Hayama happily continued reminiscing their standoff in the Winter Cup.

Kimura just looked at him. "But this is more amusing," he said. "You actually have a _fan_ , and an Uncrowned King no less."

Miyaji glared at him. "Bastard," he growled. Kimura just laughed at him, outright.

"Hey, hey!" Hayama bounced as he swung on Miyaji's arm excitedly. "Let's play a one-on-one after this practice match! I know you're graduating, so I want to spend as much time as possible with you, senpai!"

Why did I choose to come again, Miyaji wondered. Then as Akashi Seijurou approached, and declared imperiously that Rakuzan should do their drills before they started the match, he thought, _right._ Because Akashi Seijurou was the biggest spoilt brat of them all, _and_ the craziest Miracle to boot. 

Not to mention he seemed to hold some kind of mysterious sway over Midorima, of all people, he of the 'I won't do anything I'm told unless I get at least one request out of it' and 'Oha Asa decreed I should be as annoying and infuriating as possible every single day of my senpai's life in high school basketball.' Or so Miyaji imagined went through that weirdo's mind, looking at the wringer he regularly put all of them through.

"Let's partner up for the passing drill, senpai!" Hayama excitedly ran to grab a basketball. Miyaji barely had time to blink before it seemed he had rushed back to Miyaji's side, bouncing excitedly, this time with a basketball in hand. 

What the hell, Miyaji thought. How did he move so _fast_? But then again, he was an Uncrowned King, Miyaji remembered, enviously despite himself.

His passing was another thing. Miyaji could barely hold down his jealousy as Hayama handled the ball effortlessly as it slipped in and out of his possession, movements as fluid and graceful as a cat. Miyaji had to work twice as hard just to be able to _catch_ the ball Hayama passed to him.

Not that Hayama ever shut up enough to give Miyaji any time to reflect on coveting the basketball skill he would never have, anyway. He went _on and on_ about how exciting it was to have a ‘dribbling soulmate’, and it was all Miyaji could do to keep up with his pace— he was chattering so fast, and passing the ball equally as fast, all seemingly at inattention.

Eventually, "I'm going to get a drink," Miyaji said, power walking away as fast as he could without seeming like he was fleeing desperately away. Hayama made to call out "I'll follow you!" but just then Akashi called him over to discuss Rakuzan's strategy for the practice match. Miyaji gratefully escaped to a vending machine.

It seemed that Miyaji had just relaxed and enjoyed the peace for barely a few minutes before — "Senpai! What are you drinking? A sports drink? Is it delicious? What's your favorite brand of sports drink, senpai?"

What the — Miyaji thought. His mouth hung open as he stared at Hayama, practically vibrating with excitement and hyperactivity on front of him.

"How the hell did you find me?" Miyaji asked, incredulously. He had gone to the furthest vending machine, tucked away in a hidden corner of Shuutoku's grounds. Hayama smiled brightly, a fang poking out. (Wait— a _fang_? Miyaji did a double take.)

"I _smelled_ your scent, senpai!" He beamed. "You’re so easy to find."

Miyaji bonked him on the head, finally at the end of his patience. "Okay, that's a freaking lie and you know it. You'd better not be stalking me," he menacingly made a fist in Hayama’s face. "Or else."

Hayama just laughed, cheerfully. "Oh senpai, you're so funny!" He leaned closer into Miyaji's face, and winked. "Do you want to know a secret, senpai?"

Miyaji frowned, and backed away. Hayama was getting too close in his personal space. "What do you mean?"

Hayama just smiled wider. "It's a _really_ good secret." Miyaji rolled his eyes. "Just spit it out already, or I'll throw this Pocari at your head."

The fang made another appearance. "I'll tell you in exchange for your phone number, senpai!" Hayama's eyes shone excitedly.

Miyaji spluttered. "What! _No_ — you're _never_ going to leave me alone then!"

Hayama pouted. "But it's a _great_ secret!" He clasped his hands earnestly. "I promise." Then with a cheeky smirk, "I can get your number from Akashi anytime, anyway. I just wanted to get it from you _willingly_." 

Miyaji looked around, at a loss. No one was around. He sighed, heavily, frustrated. "You deserve a hundred pineapples thrown at your head, and being run over by Kimura’s truck multiple times,” he gritted out. “ _Fine_.”

Hayama leapt up in delight. He took a deep breathe, then — “F***!” Miyaji yelled, pronouncing the asterisks clearly and distinctly.  He leapt backwards in shock.

A _cheetah_ was in front of him. A _f***ing_ cheetah _._ Miyaji reflexively flung the Pocari in his hand towards its head (it dodged gracefully, cat-like). He breathed shallowly, trying not to yell. “H-hayama…?” Miyaji asked. The cheetah _grinned_ at him, and there it was again — more _fangs_.   

“What. The. F—” Miyaji could not even complete his sentence, as his mouth hung open. 

Cheetah-Hayama _purred_ and rubbed himself against him affectionately. Miyaji froze in place. He didn’t know whether to be more terrified that a frigging _cheetah_ was touching him, or that the cheetah was _Hayama_.

“Isn’t it a good thing our standoff was only in basketball, senpai?” Cheetah-Hayama _growled_ , in a sort-of cattish, sort-of boyish, sort-of _totally unnatural_ voice. Except it was totally natural, because if a cheetah could talk, that would probably be how its voice sounded. _And_ it was still grinning, fangs gleaming grotesquely.

Then suddenly it morphed into Hayama again, and Miyaji could finally _breathe._ He felt slightly light-headed, and took huge, gulping gasps of breath.

Hayama smiled, but this time it wasn’t the peppy, beaming smile he had been giving Miyaji all day — it was more knowing, and a little sorrowful. “So that’s the secret— you now know where my basketball skill comes from.” 

Miyaji blinked, slowly. He was impressed with how relatively calmly he was taking this. Still, however, he found himself wishing he could run Kimura’s truck over _himself_. Maybe then he would see this was all a weird, thoroughly _out there_ dream.

“Why basketball?” of all the questions Miyaji could have asked (how many of _you_ are there, how did it happen, is your appetite more human than cheetah, do cheetahs dream in their sleep, is Japan’s ecosystem even suitable for cheetahs…) he asked _that_ question, because it seemed the one that mattered most. Of all the places a mutant could go to try and fit in, basketball seemed an odd place to be.

“When you’re like us, you try to be normal, to belong, wherever you can,” Hayama explained. His smile was wry, and still downcast. “Plus, basketball’s fun, anyway!” He made a gallant attempt to become bubbly again.

Miyaji gazed at Hayama, consideringly. Somehow, he didn’t covet Hayama’s basketball skill jealously anymore. Feeling like an outsider most of your life was a high price to pay to be able to have a cheetah’s agility and reflexes when playing basketball.

He reached out a hand, and touched Hayama’s head gently. Hayama sort of leaned into his touch. Huh, if Miyaji thought about it, cheetah’s really _were_ just big cats, weren’t they? That made him feel a little less freaked out. 

“Is my phone number that valuable, then?” Miyaji joked, trying to make him feel better. He _did_ wonder why Hayama chose _him_ , out of all the people he could have clung onto. Out of all the people he could have bonded with, to share his secret with.

“I have _great_ instincts, senpai,” Hayama leaned close towards Miyaji. “I know that it’ll _definitely_ be worth it.” Miyaji’s throat went dry — Hayama’s face was _so near_ , and he was _purring_ the words.

“Did you know, senpai? Male cheetahs group together for life.” The fang was back, and Hayama’s smile was back to how it was again, but this time full of meaning.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The “asterisks” line when Miyaji swears, is a tribute to Terry Pratchett! ;)


	10. Bait and Tackle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imayoshi loves fishing, especially when it involves baiting Seirin’s supposedly strong rallying captain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was based off a request by a dear Anon on tumblr! I really hope you like it — do let me know what you think! It was very fun to write. =)

Hyuuga groaned, heavily. He was supposed to be stroking the material of Nobunaga Oda’s armour, his most prized warlord figure. Instead, here he was, stroking the bald head of yet another customer.

It was the beginning of summer, and the trickle of people requesting haircuts was rapidly increasing. Another busy day for the Hyuuga barbershop, and his father had forced him to help early on yet another Saturday morning.

“Welcome to Hyuuga barbershop, I’ll be with you in a moment,” the words came mechanically to Hyuuga as he heard the tinkle of the bell as the door opened again.

“Take your time,” the distinctive Kansai dialect and polite way of speaking could not be mistaken as anyone else. Hyuuga felt the instinctive irritation creep in as he gazed upon Imayoshi Shouchi’s infuriating smile, eyes barely visible as usual, glasses glinting.

After a quick glance that his father would not be around, “What are you doing here?” Hyuuga demanded, rudely.

“I’m honoured. I get Seirin’s illustrious captain’s clutch personality treatment from the start?” Imayoshi drawled, secretive smirk firmly in place.

Hyuuga bit the inside of his mouth to stop himself swearing at Imayoshi. Just a few more quick sweeps from a handtowel and he was done with the customer.

Hyuuga forced a smile as he saw the customer out. Then he whirled on Imayoshi.

“There are so many barbershops around Todai!” Hyuuga spluttered as he pointed at Imayoshi accusingly. “You purposely came here!”

“I wanted entertainment too,” Imayoshi drawled as he sat on the chair and took off his glasses pointedly, waiting for Hyuuga to start. “Haircuts can be so boring.”

Without his glasses, he looked somewhat less conniving, Hyuuga noted. But his eyes were still barely visible, and his smirk still made Hyuuga’s blood boil.

Hyuuga just _knew_ Imayoshi was laughing at him from behind that smug, shrewd grin as he placed his fingers into Imayoshi’s hair and they involuntarily twitched from the effort of not tightening around his neck.

This was going to be hell, having to serve this exasperating bastard.

***

This was going to be fun, baiting Imayoshi’s prey today.

“Congratulations on Seirin’s first national championship,” Imayoshi hummed as he heard the snips of Hyuuga’s scissors. Funny how something that was pretty much a weapon could sound so soothing.

He felt Hyuuga’s fingers stiffen slightly, the snips pausing, then continue.

“Thanks,” was gruffly, curtly, suspiciously said. Seirin’s captain was an intriguing individual. Imayoshi had made the right choice for his ‘fishing spot’ today.

“Must feel nice, finally getting the validation of the win you’ve been searching for since middle school,” Imayoshi continued, gently prodding with his powers, mentally, through the time Hyuuga Junpei had not been good enough, and had given up. Was _this_ the mental pressure point of Seirin’s celebrated captain?

The next snip was louder than it should have been, and the brush of Hyuuga’s fingers on Imayoshi’s neck rough, removing excess hair.

But the rhythm of his movements remained the same, and Hyuuga’s voice was calm as he said, “We worked hard for the win. But even if we hadn’t, I’m still proud of how far the team’s come.”

Hm, Seirin’s captain really had grown. His insecurity and desire for a win might have once been his mental pressure point, but it wasn’t anymore. He now deserved to be the one to rally Seirin’s mental state, when they needed it.

Imayoshi needed to try a different bait. “How’s Iron Heart doing?” He felt the fingers stiffen on his scalp yet again.

“What about him?” rudely said, yet again. Hyuuga Junpei really _was_ a fascinating person. He could go from calm to _this_ in the space of a question.

“Oh, when you’re in university you start reminiscing about people you’ve met,” Imayoshi smiled at Hyuuga amusedly, innocently, through the mirror. “You become curious.”

“He’s fine,” Hyuuga bit out. His movements were jerky, and his fingers caught on Imayoshi’s hair as he pulled slightly unintentionally on it. _There it was_ , Imayoshi felt the familiar sense of victory, the one he felt every time he caught something juicy.

It really _was_ his favourite hobby, fishing. Imayoshi thought he should take the time to do it more often.

“I’m pleased to hear that,” Imayoshi carefully spoke the words. “It would be a pity if such a young team was derailed from your path to further glory so prematurely.”

He heard Hyuuga’s gulp as the words caught at his throat. “Seirin will be fine.” Ah, young teams and their reliance on fighting spirit. How endearing. Imayoshi was endlessly fascinated by how different Seirin was from Touou’s pragmatic philosophy. No wonder Seirin had won the sauna battle.

Imayoshi hummed consideringly. “And how is your coach doing?” Hyuuga gave the final snip rougher than he should.

“I’m done now, so are you done with your stupid questions?” Hyuuga was frowning suspiciously.

Imayoshi raised his hands, palms open, virtuously. “Take them as the enquiries of a sentimental senpai.”

Hyuuga snorted. “Right. Just tell me what you want, scheming bastard.”

Imayoshi put his glasses back on. They glinted as he smiled wistfully at Hyuuga. “My, how hostile. Kohai are so mistrustful nowadays.”

He ignored Hyuuga’s mutter of “It’s because it’s _you_ ” as he patted Hyuuga on the shoulder. He purposefully let his fingers linger in an almost-stroke, amusedly quirking his lips at Hyuuga’s tenseness in his effort not to squirm away.

“Tell Iron Heart and Aida-san I wish them well,” Imayoshi gave his sweetest smile as he paid. Hyuuga accepted it, looking even more apprehensive.

As Imayoshi walked out, he called to Hyuuga casually, like a throwaway line, “Do you know much about Nobunaga Oda?”

Hyuuga stiffened, eyes widened. “What?” Imayoshi saw the recognition of the name in his eyes. Yup, he had caught a big fish alright. Today was a lucky day.

Imayoshi waved dismissively, casually, at Hyuuga. “I have a paper due tomorrow on Japanese warlords for my Japanese History elective.”

Hyuuga gaped as Imayoshi opened the door, bell tinkling merrily in contrast to Hyuuga’s mounting dread.

“I’ll come by again later today after visiting Iron Heart in the hospital. Your senpai greatly appreciates your help.” Imayoshi smiled slowly as Hyuuga started spluttering. “It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

Hyuuga gulped. Riko was going to _kill_ him for skipping summer practice that day.

 

**Author's Note:**

> To clarify, I don’t really ship any particular pairing. This format just came to me for fun. So this is my attempt to write overt romance in Kuroko no Basuke.
> 
> This AU is different from [The Hunt](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1451908/chapters/3056884) in that there won’t be any clear plotlines — it’s more about short snapshot stories about how their lives are affected by being mutants.
> 
> I'm always open to requests for pairings on my [Tumblr](http://bob2ff.tumblr.com/)! The weirder the better. =)


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